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by Spoontasti



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: (but he's suspicious as fuck), M/M, Sexting, enemies to anonymous (one sided) online sex buddies to lovers, sending nudes, shizuo doesn't known it's Izaya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-12
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-10-18 01:40:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10606659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoontasti/pseuds/Spoontasti
Summary: He opens the note and there’s a friendly reminder at the end that says this will stop when he sends a photo.





	1. Insert Photo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Animeangel1798](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Animeangel1798/gifts).



> Inspired from a DRRR!!kink meme [Here](http://drrrkink.livejournal.com/7084.html?thread=27183788#t27183788)
> 
> I always wanted to try one and couldn't pass up this brilliant idea!

It’s in his locker again and Shizuo can only stare in disbelief as he crumples the note without reading it. He knows what it says because it's the same one as always. _Send nudes._ Following that same number.

The first time he saw it, that flea bastard came to mind. Because who else would harass him with this shit, huh? But he’d been too flustered to do anything other than get pissed off. Yeah, as if he’s going to go around yelling ‘who the fuck is asking for my nudes’ while at work. And as screwy as the flea is, the bastard’s sure as hell not interested in him that way; yeah, the feeling is mutual. And if this is an attempt at blackmail, it’s shit ‘cause this kind of thing wouldn’t hold anything over on him anyway. No one in his workplace would give a fuck. Well, it’s probably not Izaya since he hasn’t shown his ugly flea-self in over a month.

It’s been a few pain in the ass weeks since the notes came in, and Shizuo’s sick of it. Apparently, the only way it’ll stop is if he sends a photo of himself.

The entire afternoon to late evening passes in mild annoyance while he’s behind the bar making drinks for people who don't send him a second glance. It’s a slow night and he’s careful not to show just how pissed off he is because he doesn't want any problems. He wants to keep this job. He took an online course studying to be a bartender and his brother had sent him a shipment of uniforms. After being fired job after job, Shizuo’s really depending on this one, and he doesn't want to mess up.

Except when it’s time to go, that note is again in his locker. No one is loitering around in the back and no one should be able to get in the staff room to begin with. He doesn't think it’s any of his co-workers, because it’s only him and two other guys working the tables and both of them are in a relationship with girlfriends anyway.

He opens the note and there’s a friendly reminder at the end that says this will stop when he sends a photo.

He frowns heavily. He knows it's stupid but he still goes to the bathroom down the hall. No one’s there and he doesn't think about the consequences because he just wants it to end. There’s a mirror there, a dirty square. His black vest is carefully undone even if he is annoyed enough to send the buttons flying, but he can never do that since his brother did give him this. He’s at the white buttoned shirt underneath and pulls the material from his belt and begins to lift it up. Some girls are walking by out in the hall, chatting from outside and he hesitates, his heart’s beating a bit too fast. It’s quiet again and quickly he pulls up the front of his shirt for the full expanse of his torso.

He’s thin in the mirror, but there are some visible muscles over his taut stomach. His phone is out, though he realizes that it’s probably not enough. He unfastens his belt buckle and pushes his pants and boxers low on his hips. He snaps a photo of himself in front of the mirror, it’s grainy in the poor light and he has to angle it so that his face is cropped off and since the mirror isn't long enough to begin with, it cuts off right before his dick.

His clothes are rearranged in place and he doesn't so much as check the quality of the image. It hides his face and that’s good enough for him. He has to look at the note for the number before making a new message and adding the photo attachment. He types ‘fuck you’ in the message and sends it unexpectedly excited because he’s never done anything even remotely sexual with anyone. He feels stupid once the message is sent, the impulsivity of his action catching up but it's impossible to take it back.

If he knew how to check a message for caller ID or whatever that thing was, he would have, but it's too late now. He just hopes that the notes stop.

On his way home, it’s late and in the quiet of night his phone goes off. When he sees the unknown number, it's obvious that he hasn't thought this through nor had expected the person to get back to him. He opens the message anyway. It’s short and gets him annoyed.

[ _Send **nudes**_ ]

Except there is an attachment and he’s almost afraid what’s going to pop up on his phone. He’s dealing with a horny bastard after all. Against his better judgment, he opens it. It’s a similar photo to his own, even the background could pass for the same bathroom in the bar, the way it’s cramped and dark, but it is different. The person, a man thinner than even he is, has only a shirt and jeans on. The shirt is pulled up and the pants are down low and it does something to Shizuo, confuses him because he isn't angry. He can't see the face and for a second he thinks it could be Izaya, but he still isn't sure. But it can't be him because this is way too intimate and Izaya wouldn't do this. He puts all of his thoughts of Izaya away since that will only annoy him more.

It’s pretty clear what the message is saying as well: ‘show me yours and I’ll show you mine.’ It’s not as distasteful as he thought it should be.

Once he’s home he takes a shower and all the while he’s thinking of doing it. He could ignore the texts and block the number. But the notes will keep coming surely now that he’s sent that first photo. Fucking hell! Yeah, way to go there.

Making up his mind, he rinses off the soap and grabs his phone from where he had left it on top of his towel. His teeth are clenched and he’s trying not to break his phone. For a bewildered second, he doesn't know what to do and never has he done this before so he doesn't know if he should be hard or not, but even so, his dick is beginning to swell. It’s not completely hard, but it shows that he hasn’t been paying much attention to himself. Maybe that’s why he’s doing this in the first place and the thought annoys him.

Shizuo grimaces but takes a photo with the help of the mirror. It’s definitely a nude this time so the person sure as hell can’t complain. He’s out of the shower and drying off when his phone goes off. It's not at all surprising that there's an attachment with a picture. Except this one’s between two slender thighs with a hand going into tented boxers. It’s not a nude and Shizuo isn't sure if he should be annoyed or relieved. His phone goes off again with a new message–to a picture that’s obviously teasing him. The boxers are lowered, those legs pulled further out. He has nice legs, unblemished and smooth.

_Ah, fuck, want to masturbate, want to fucking masturbate._

Shizuo doesn't think all too much about this when he sits on a corner of his bed, towel coming loose, and hand around his half-hard erection. He’s fully hard when his phone vibrates again. He immediately picks it up and the photo that opens is angled differently, the stranger’s body sitting up so he can see more of his slim waist and chest. The room is dark, the bed sheets under him are black. It gives an impression of softness even when this person obviously doesn’t look all that soft.

Shizuo moves his hand and leans back. As he sits waiting, he realizes that he’s growing impatient when the next photo doesn't come after a full minute. What if he’s expecting more photos? Is that what he's waiting for? The most recent picture is still on his phone, the boxers slipping off a narrow waist teasingly.

He’s typing a message and pushing send before he realizes that he should just be ignoring this guy. [ _take it off]_

His phone goes off not two seconds later. [ _send me a photo first]_

Shizuo growls. The guy is playing with him. He must be an idiot as he goes to the camera setting on his phone and takes a photo tipped down. It’s slightly blurry, his camera isn't so good to begin with, but he’s too impatient to retake it.

It’s a long wait for his phone to vibrate with a new message. He pushes the button a bit too hard as he clicks it open. He half expects it to be a prank for whatever the next photo will be, but it’s not and it looks much better than the photo that Shizuo had sent. He appears warmer, the body language more languid and open. It’s almost artistic, even with the obvious erection that’s half covered in a hand.

It’s better than he thought it would be. He jerks off faster, putting more pressure on the head all the while he’s looking at this stranger’s body and taking his own pleasure. It’s been awhile since the last time he’s given himself attention and he comes within a minute. After the pleasant pulsing, his whole body is close to peace. He lies on his bed and doesn't begin to hate himself until he feels the cum on his leg and hand begin to cool. He turns off his phone and slams it in a drawer next to his bed.

He takes another shower, this one cool. He goes to bed and surprisingly finds sleep quickly.

The next day he’s mostly reluctant to do much of anything. He stays indoors, phone still in the drawer until he needs to go to work. For the first time in what feels like forever, his locker is empty when he arrives. He takes in a deep breath and readjusts his bartender uniform. The notes do indeed stop; but when he turns on his phone, the messages don't. He’s not nearly that surprised or upset about that either. 


	2. Sent and received

There’s always something satisfying getting exactly what he wants after a month of work. The three pictures on his phone is proof that the impossible is possible.

An hour ago he hadn’t expected his personal phone to go off a little after midnight. He hadn’t expected Shizuo to send him anything. He also definitely hadn't expected to see a picture of Shizuo’s exposed torso. It had been too good to pass up, and Izaya was itching to do this right. He needed more. It wasn't winning unless he got them. So he had to give a little in order to get Shizuo's attention. But he got them. He has them now. Shizuo’s nudes.

He laughs softly as he picks up his phone to go over them again. “I got them. The idiot actually sent them. I can't believe he sent me them!” Seeing the beast in its natural form is a first and Izaya can't help but examine each picture further. There’s something so very him about the photos. The messiness and brashness, the disregard to quality and good taste. He turns to the last one. Ah, oh so very monstrous indeed.

He grins and finds himself restless so soon after his orgasm. He frowns as he rubs himself, the stiffness returns. He sits up and his frown grows. “It must’ve been a while, hmm.” He catches the drying cum with a few tissues and slips on his boxers.

Of course, he hadn’t exactly intended to masturbate and certainly not to pictures of Shizuo. It’s only because he had been feeding the monster’s lust. Playing the part so he gets what he intended: Shizuo’s humiliation and pissing him off at work. He’d gone that far to prove something, he just never thought he’d actually manage to get this far–not after the first few weeks of Shizuo ignoring each note in his locker. So maybe he went a bit too far with this joke, but the gains are certainly worth it.

He finds himself going to his computer to load the pictures, saves them to his hard drive, and wonders what he can do with them. He’s still amazed that he actually has Shizuo’s nudes. He imagines Shizuo’s anger when he realizes who he sent them too. He thinks about printing copies and putting them on the locker so everyone can see them. Except then the game will end and Izaya is reluctant. It’s too much fun when he knows he can play with Shizuo’s head. Scramble that one brain cell till it turns to mush.

He looks at all three photos at once made big on his screen. “Poor, Shizu-chan. Didn't anyone teach you not to talk to strangers. Or send them your nudes.” He giggles a bit too loudly in the quiet room.

It would have been better to get his face as well. “What face were you making, hmm? Did you look pissed? Did you come in the end?” He can't imagine the expression, but he wants to see it. He wants to see all the faces Shizuo can make and pick them apart. He feels that stirring below, his dick agreeing and warming up to the idea. Izaya frown's heatedly and realizes it's getting much too late.

After drinking some water, he goes back to his bedroom and takes his phone with him. He imagines posting these pictures online with Shizuo’s name on them. The idea is at first funny, but then he imagines all of the idiots getting excited over it and what if one of them actually wanted that beast near them? No, Izaya had to protect them. Shizuo would break them with his strength and possibly with his dick.

His face and neck warms up and Izaya is annoyed. “He’s probably the worst at sex,” He grumbles into his pillow. “Probably will hold you down and drill you into the mattress like a monster. Leave you completely wrecked.” His eyes widen and from his nightstand, he grabs a few chewable sleeping pills that taste like peppermint. “I really need to get some sleep.” After a few annoying minutes of frowning into his pillow and trying not to think of Shizuo, sleep welcomes him.

Unfortunately, his dreams do not.

He wakes up hot and sweaty, the sheets tangled between his legs. Fading images of his dreams—of monster’s eyes and pinning hands, has him blinking through his confusion. It comes to a complete shock that he has morning wood. He throws a hand over his eyes and damp bangs. This isn't good. This really isn't good at all.

All through the morning, the impressions from his dream returned. He doesn't remember how it starts, but in it he is being chased and he decides to hide in a building that turns into a love hotel. It’s one of those themed ones and this room is made to look like an empty subway. Except it isn't empty.

Izaya stares at his computer angrily where he’s trying to work. The pictures are no longer on the screen and he’s thought about deleting them entirely. He wants to put this out of his mind. He need to focus on the time-sensitive report he’s typing up on some trespassing drug dealers and what they are selling. He doesn’t feel like leaving his apartment, and he certainly doesn't want to check his personal phone.

His attention falters as the subway from that dream comes back to his mind. He’s holding to the round straps suspended from a pole. His pants are down to his ankles and he doesn't dare turn his head as he feels two firm hands grasp his briefs and inch by inch draw them down. The plastic in his grip is shaking, not from fear but from excitement. He’s no longer standing on two feet as a strength behind him lifts him up. For some reason he is unable to twist his body or turn to look around. Catching his reflection in the mirror, it's dark, almost impossible to see, but the face he’s making is sneaky and pleased. Though he’s still holding the handlebars, in the reflection a hand comes to his mouth and at first it looks like he’s motioning to be quiet but then he licks that finger and Izaya lowers his gaze so he doesn't see anymore. He feels it though, and the initial intrusion has him gasping loudly. The straps jerk in his grasp and they may as well be chain cuffs.

Izaya slams his hands against his desk and stands up, the chair rolls behind him and hits the window. “I need to get out. Get some fresh air. Damn, I'm going crazy.”

He puts on his coat, locks the apartment, and goes to a park. Ikebukuro is a nice district to live in, the humans are interesting, but Izaya thinks about moving out. He grabs a cup of coffee at a nearby cafe and stares down at the humans milling about. His drinks the bitter coffee that's way too hot with a certain viciousness.

The thought about stopping this crosses his mind, he does already have the pictures so there's no point in going any further. But he’s mad at Shizuo, unbelievably so. He wants to do something awful to him. Manipulate him. Take everything he can from the other before dragging the rug from underneath him. This is only fun and it's only ever going to be a hilarious game.

There’s that seven floor sex shop in Akihabara. He’s bound to find something interesting there that will make Shizuo play this new game with him. Surly a beast has very little taste, so it shouldn't take much. But the thought of taking the subway doesn't sit all too well for him. He’s frowning again. It’s because he’s on a rather tight schedule. There are other methods and he decides on discreet online shopping.

He’ll prove that this doesn't mean anything. It'll go away when he gets bored of this, which should be soon since Shizuo has the creativity and attention span of an amoeba. His grin is more wicked than playful and he returns home with a slight skip in his steps.


	3. You've fucked up

It could be anyone, Shizuo thinks. The horny bastard could be any of the customers here sipping on drinks he poured. Well, probably not the lady in the back booth. Nor that man already wasted and dozing on his arm. But besides them, it could be anyone.

Shizuo scrutinizes each patron in the dim lighting. Some are regulars and he knows their preferred orders, though he only remembers the first syllable of most of their names. There are more thin customers than fat, and Shizuo deliberately doesn't try to match the pics still not deleted on his phone to any of the people here, and yet without meaning to, he’s ruled everyone out. It has occurred to him that the pictures could be fakes, just pictures of a random person on the Internet, but it’s more probably that this horny bastard would want to be exposing himself. The thought annoys him and he has to be careful of the glass he’s cleaning. He’s already cracked one glass earlier and any more and he’ll get reprimanded by the manager.

Shizuo’s just somewhat glad that the photos were not of a naked woman because then he really would have been down a phone. It’s not the first time he’s crushed his own phone in rage and the Docomo workers probably all know his face by now. Fuck, what if it’s one of them?

He scoffs quietly and one of his co-workers, his name is either Yamamoto or Yamanaka, Shizuo can’t remember right now, gives him an order of hot sake. The tiny cups are treated delicately in his hands and it’s an easy order so he doesn't have to think about what he’s doing.

The door slides open and a new customer ducks his head inside. Shizuo knows who it is. It’s a regular customer who pisses him off. Usually he comes here with three to five girls hanging on his arms. He’s young, probably too young to be drinking, and Shizuo wonders if that driving license he presented on request was real or not. The girls he’s usually with look too young to drink as well and it pisses him till he's serving drinks through gritted teeth.

Tonight he’s alone though and after surveying the people in the bar and seeing no girls to his liking, he makes his way over to a vacant seat too close to where Shizuo is standing and pouring drinks for a table.

“Tokyo girls are the best.” He sighs in greeting, and if Shizuo wasn't pissed off before, he sure as hell is now. “But there’s no one here to pick up. Maybe I should try another bar.”

“Should have decided that before you took a seat.” Shizuo grumbles and the guy leans in closer. He’s wearing that dumb straw hat which Shizuo has no idea the name of. Sombrero? Fe...brero? “The door’s in the front.”

The guy grins. There’s a red handprint on his face. “I’ll have something strong. Make it a shochu mixed with Hoppy.”

Shizuo makes it even if he’d rather send the guy through the door. He doesn't make eye contact since he doesn't like interacting with customers. It gives him less of a chance to get angry. It seems like this guy is looking to talk though as he ignores the obvious frown Shizuo is making.

“You want to ask what happened, right? To my face?”

“No.” Shizuo says flatly. Sometimes he _really_ hates being a bartender. He wishes he could put up a sign that says, 'CAUTION do not talk to the bartender'.

“Michiko did it. I forgot her birthday. I'm terrible aren't I? I usually have all of their birthdays on my calendar, but I must have put this one on the wrong month.” He sighs loudly and drinks from the glass Shizuo has passed over.

It’s pretty obvious that this good for nothing guy has multiple girlfriends. It’s weirder too that the girls know it and are okay with it. Shizuo can't understand it and this horny bastard pisses him off.

He frowns. Now that he thinks about it, this guy has pretty much the same build as the one on his phone. Thin, lanky, tall. Of course, not as tall as Shizuo, but tall enough to be noticed. Fuck. He hopes it’s not actually him because he doesn't want to be part of this guy’s string of lovers. Ahh, fuck no.

The guy is watching him from over his cup and for a weird second he’s sure he’s being checked out. Shizuo looks away and concentrates on his breathing. It’s all in his head. It’s only because of the persistent notes in his locker. He has a new order for some whiskey and Shizuo makes it with all of his attention.

“This really hits the spot.” He says with a sigh and Shizuo doesn't respond. “Thanks for the drink.” He winks, pays, and leaves and Shizuo thinks he can go through work without any trouble when another customer comes in, thin and slender just like the pictures. He takes the vacant seat that the other horny bastard just left. It’s a long, headache inducing night and finally Shizuo helps with closing the bar and leaves for home.

There are three new messages on his phone. One from Celty asking how things are. He responds with a quick text. The last time they talked had been when he had first gotten the job at the bar. The second and third messages are from the unknown number. Shizuo hasn’t gotten around to blocking the number yet. He also doesn't really know how to block numbers on his phone.

Last night he hadn’t responded to the text either, hadn’t even read it though he thought about it. But with an additional message unread on his phone, he decides to open it. It’s a photo attachment, no surprise there, but the objects arranged on the bed make him nearly drop his phone. He catches it before it slips from his fingers. He doesn't even know half of what that shit is. But one’s a fake penis so it’s not so hard to guess what the other things are as well.

[ _W_ _ant to pick one?_ ] The second message reads.

Shizuo types a message right away, not realizing that ignoring the texts would be the smart thing to do.

[ _no_ ] He sends another text right away. [ _I thought you said it’d end when I sent photos of myself]_

He wishes text could display how peeved he is, but that’s what caps lock is for, right?

[ _LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!!!]_

Then again this is the person who spent weeks putting notes in his locker! Of course, he’s going to be harassed some more. That's how it works and it’s kind of a dumb thing to ask to be left alone _after_ he’s already sent nudes of himself. What a royal fuck up there on his part, huh? Ugh, stupid, just fricking _stupid_!

And there is a new message on his phone wanting to rub it in his face. Or so he thinks.

[ _So_ _which one?_ ] It repeats.

[ _none of them! Go away_ ]

Shizuo returns his phone in his pocket and goes home. He ignores the vibration that goes off a minute later. It’s too late in the night for this shit. He just wants some calm after work. His apartment is cool when he comes back, he must have forgotten to close the windows. A quick shower relieves part of the stress but he’s still too wired to go straight to bed.

There’s nothing to do either but go on his tiny balcony and light up a cigarette. He really needs to get some new hobbies. Meet some more people, maybe. Shizuo snorts. Yeah, right. He takes a long inhale and lets his lungs expand with warmth and smoke. He exhales slowly.

Fuck, he’s tired. It’s also terribly boring, even if the night could be considered peaceful. A few cars go by from far below and Shizuo leans against the metal railing. He’s close to finished with the cigarette when he decides to deal with the asshole on his phone.

[ _Long_ _day?_ ] The message reads.

“Oh, fuck you,” Shizuo grumbles. He decides to text that as well.

 _[I can help you unwind._ ]

Shizuo frowns at the message. It eats at him in a strange way. He runs a hand through his hair, still damp from his shower and the wind sends chills through him. Back inside, there’s nothing to do. He hadn’t bothered turning on the lights since the streetlights reach his apartment. He goes to his bed that’s not at all comfortable. His phone is warm and a little sweaty in his hand. Hazy blue light surrounds him as his phone light comes on.

It feels different today. Maybe because he’s not so angry. He’s ready to type but isn't sure what to say. His screen goes dark from inactivity and he has to think hard. He starts to type ‘ _who are you’_ but then deletes it because it’s obvious this person doesn't want to make himself known. ‘ _What do you want?’_ Again, too obvious. He should quit it before he makes an even bigger idiot of himself. He’s typing ‘ _not interested’_ when he stops and flops back on his bed. He hasn’t deleted those pictures yet. He doesn't particularly want to either. He lifts the phone up to his face. If he scrolls up then he can see them again.

He’s still unsure what to text, but he remembers the sleazebag with the hat. It’s not him, probably. ‘ _Do you wear an ugly, dumbass hat?’_ Shizuo reconsiders and texts: [ _Are you in a relationship with anyone?_ ]

This person could just lie to him, but it’s probably a fair question. Plus, if he was already in a relationship, Shizuo would be pretty pissed for the person being cheated on. Unless he has multiple girlfriends, like that two-timing scumbag. Well, more like six-timing, sheesh.

Looking at his sent question, Shizuo feels even more dumb. This person obviously is too much of an ass to be in a relationship to begin with. So it’s probably not the smooth talker at the bar.

[ _Never mind_ ] Shizuo texts. [ _forget I asked. Don't bother responding back ever again]_

 _[Single. Unless you are interested._ ]

Shizuo snorts. “God, what a loser. Why do I even bother?”

[ _Does the ‘leave me the fuck alone’ give you a hint?_ ]

 _[I think it's sweet. Ah, what charm_!]

Shizuo hates people like this. He grips his phone a little bit harder. [ _You've gotta be shitting me, right?]_

 _[How about we skip the endearments and get right to it? You are still messaging me_ ]

That’s true and messaging this jerk is only pissing him off. Not that he was all that interested to begin with. [ _You know what? It’s late and I'm not really in the mood for this shit. Piss someone else off_.]

His phone vibrates twice before he has the chance to shut it off.

[ _Awww,_ _don't be like that_.]

[ _How about a strip tease first? That will get you in the mood._ ]

“As if I’m going to...oh.”

It isn't a photo but a clip sent to his phone. He hovers over the play button, frown tugging at his lips, before hitting it. It’s short, seventeen seconds long, and dark. He brings his phone closer to his face since it’s a small screen. The same lanky form that’s too skinny for Shizuo's taste appears sitting on a large bed. His clothes are simple, a blue T-shirt and black skinny jeans. The video frame cuts off right to the beginning of his slender neck. He’s lifting off his shirt with both hands from the hem and lifting it off in a fluid motion. His hips lift off the bed as he’s working on his belt with his left hand. He’s unzipping and sliding his fingers into his pants when the video stops.

[ _W_ _ant more?_ ]

Shizuo rolls his eyes. [ _Is that supposed to turn me on?]_ The response doesn't come right away. Was that too offensive? He hopes so.

[ _Then you show me better._ ]

Except he’ll look like an idiot if he does it. [ _Nah, how bout you just keep going_?]

The response comes many seconds later. [ _Fine_ ]

It’s a long wait and Shizuo’s about to call it a night when his phone vibrates again. He eases more on the bed as he plays it.

The phone is closer this time or it’s zoomed in. It cuts off mid chest and the focus is obviously supposed to be down. THe guy is on his knees and working his jeans off. They look so ridiculously tight, it's a marvel that he can even put them on and they aren't peeling off with his skin. But they slide down his legs and he’s wearing black boxer briefs underneath. Shizuo knew his legs were long, but he didn't know how long till he was drawing them down his legs forever. Though if he had been wearing sweats or something more practical it would probably take half the time. Still Shizuo can somewhat appreciate the effort. And the nice legs. Definitely the nice legs.

There’s a pause. Shizuo thinks it will end there, it seems like he’s not so used to this as he makes it out to be, but then he slides his hands up his inner thighs and moves to the front of his tight boxers. His hands are unhurried as he touches himself through the material and the shape of his erection forms. The video cuts off.

[ _Your turn._ ]

Shizuo closes his eyes tightly. He could just go to sleep and piss this person off. He’s a bit warm though and his dick is more awake. Well, he’ll try to record it and see where it goes.

The lights are off so it's too dark for the camera to pick up anything. His phone is shit because they have a tendency to break very easily. He turns on the lamp on his nightstand and he figures it should be enough. The phone rests upright against the lamp and he has to figure out how to record videos before pressing the button. It only has one lense so he can't see whatever is filming on the screen.

He begins with his shirt. It’s an old white t-shirt that's seen better days. There's a blood stain on the sleeve that never fully washed off. He has a lot of those kinds of shirts. He doesn't know how to take off his shirt in a sexy manner, so he just takes it off as he normally would, messing up his already messy hair and nearly cutting off his circulation at his neck because he did it too fast. It rips and he’s free and maybe a little bit warm around the edges.

Hey, seeing is one thing—doing is another.

He frowns when he reaches for his pants, but it’s only a moment and he gets over it fast. He’s never been photogenic, and he certainly hates his pictures taken, but the thought of someone watching him may just be more exciting than he had first anticipated.

He’s wearing sweats so it can't be all that interesting– not that he’s trying all too hard to begin with– but there's no helping it since he never planned for this shit. To make up for that, he tries to rock out of them and they are halfway down his thighs when he sees the horrendous excuse for underwear that he has on.

Shit, it’s his ugliest pair of boxers. Ugly as in banana yellow with blood stains from various fights and multiple holes— the biggest hole being by the underside of his crotch where there is a huge tear. He hasn't gotten around to throwing them out yet because on hot summer days when it's humid as fuck in his apartment, it’s nice to give his balls a little breathing room.

He rips his pants right off, tears his boxers in half, and flings them away like they were on fire all in quick succession. His heart's beating loud but he thinks he pulled it all off smoothly. He reaches for his phone and stops the recording.

Technology is a bit beyond him sometimes, and he’s never really needed to make videos on his phone so he doesn't know how to crop it; he didn't angle it correctly either so sometimes the bottom half of his face is showing. He’s thinking of re-recording while the video is two-thirds through when a new message comes in.

[ _Did you fall asleep or chicken out?_ ]

“Ugh, whatever.”

He sends it because he’s not going to go through the effort of putting on clothes again just so he can strip them off. He’s waiting, dick in hand, in anticipation. For what, he’s not completely sure. When it takes longer than it should (the video isn't that long to begin with) he wonders if he just fucked up completely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh snap, this is just too fun


	4. I'll show you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I spent like an hour or two making an entire outline and then I write this chapter and of course, it throws half of it off. I just didn't expect these things to happen. This just might be the most crack I've ever written. On a side note, I'm going to work on a cheap imitation next so the following chapter may take some time. 
> 
> Thank you, everyone, for the amazing comments. It was a good surprise and a lot of it helped expand my own ideas! I hope you enjoy this.

_What the hell was that?_

It doesn't help that the camera quality is grainy and too dark to see details. He's watching the video from the beginning. The shirt comes off unceremoniously, it gets stuck for a second before it tears and comes loose as if Shizuo never learned how to take off a shirt properly. It's still amusing even the second time around.

Shizuo's glowering, but Izaya is more interested as the pants begin to drop with each slight undulation of hips. Then the most baffling part comes on, where the pants are off in a blur and he's tearing off his boxers and throwing them across the room like they've offended him.

The tearing clothes is unexpected, and it leaves him unhinged and hot and only able to stare for the remaining last few seconds. He won't admit where his eyes stray– he's too absorbed trying to process it all– then Shizuo reaches for the phone and the video stops.

To think the protozoan has a bit of technique, even if it is the level of a neanderthal. Izaya laughs to cover just how affected he is. He knows he shouldn't be and it's terribly frustrating. He hadn't touched himself from the previous video, but he's still half hard and ready.

He has to send something though and it's a shame he can't text a scathing remark or else piss Shizuo off. He settles on something neutral. [ _A_ _better camera would be an improvement. Or turning on the lights.]_ Still, it's a pointless request laced with too much eagerness for his liking. Well, of course, he can't expect too much from one of Shizuo's videos, which means he'll have to go back to pictures. Which is all the better because the videos had been a pain.

In preparation, he had already taken a few photos of himself an hour before (though in truth it had been a little over a hundred in order to get what he considered the perfect shots). The one sending now is an angle from behind, spine arched, on his knees, and boxers hugging his ass. It's cropped at his shoulders.

Izaya's hoping that Shizuo will get the hint and wouldn't have to be asked to send his own. Unless the other had already fallen asleep.

His phone vibrates. [ _remove the boxers_ ] it reads.

Of course. Izaya tsks and types instead. [ _All right. They're coming down. I'm imaging you tearing them off, just like you did before_.] With one hand he wiggles them down to his knees and. Now what? Izaya frowns. What will get Shizuo to take another dick pic? Would ' _I want to suck you off'_ work _?_

That gets him thinking about it too.

[ _What do you want to do to me?]_ Izaya waits, unsure before sending it. If Shizuo knew who he was texting, he would certainly write 'kill' or 'beat to death'. But still, he's interested in Shizuo's response.

[ _probably punch you for annoying me at work_.]

"Hah. I knew it. Not like you're fast enough to punch me anyway."

[ _I'm very sorry for bothering you._ ] "As if." Izaya adds under his breath. [ _I'm willing to make it up to you though_.] [ _Anything you want._ ] [ _You can choose something from the toys I sent you before. Unless you want me to give you a special service_.]

Izaya has to wait a few moments for the response. He's not disappointed.

[ _yeah? Like what?_ ]

[ _I'm on my knees now. On the floor_.] [ _Hands are tied up too_.] [ _I have a blindfold on_.]

[ _then how can you text_?]

Izaya sighs. [ _That doesn't matter. You're here too. But obviously, I can't see you. Where are you?_ ]

[ _on the bed?_ ]

It's so terrible, Izaya almost loses his boner. Almost. [ _Okay. You are on the bed_.] [ _Sitting_.] [ _You can do anything you want to me. Am I allowed to touch you_?]

[oh _in that case, I'm taking off what's tied around your arms. You look pretty pathetic_.] [ _blindfold stays._ ] [ _yeah, you can touch me._ ]

Izaya waits to see if Shizuo's going to continue, but after five seconds he begins to type once more. [ _I'm reaching out and my hand feels something warm_.]

[ _i kinda want to stomp on you. You said I can do anything I want right?_ ]

"Ugh. You're completely ruining it, you moron." Izaya really wants to type that he stabs Shizuo but refrains.

[ _But you don't because I'm really good at giving head_.] "For the love of humans. Just go with it!"

Shizuo texts back. [ _Alright_.] [ _Fine_.] [ _Then I grab your hair_ ] [ _unless you are bald here_ ] [ _because then I'll just grab your ear_.]

Izaya grips his phone hard. "Are you being annoying on purpose? Dammit! I hate you so much!" [ _No. I'm not bald_.] But he _is_ close to pulling out his own hair. [ _You guide me by my hair_] "And I dig my nails into your stupid face...Heh, not bad. He probably likes it like that." [ _I dig my nails into your thighs_.] "And your balls, you monster." [ _I feel your erection against my cheek_.]

[ _hold on_ ] [ _let me get it up first_.]

"Seriously. That's your damn fault." [ _You don't need to. I'll do it for you_.]

[ _Sure_.] [ _Go ahead_.]

"Finally! Do you get it now!?" By now he's long been flaccid because of Shizuo's stupid remarks. Maybe finally they can get somewhere instead of fighting through this. He has a tablet out and ready. The picture of Shizuo's cock is there with a swipe of his finger. It's annoyingly blurry. Do it for the new dick pic, he reminds himself. He's still looking at the picture as he says, "now what to do to Shizu-chan's dick, hmm?" His tongue traces his top row of teeth. Wonder how strong it is, right?

[ _I tilt my head, you're hard against my lips._ ] "shit...maybe I should have just let you crush me." Izaya frowns as he types. He thinks about his favorite sushi and his mouth waters. "Bingo." [ _I kiss you and run my tongue from top to bottom_.] [ _The flavor melts in my mouth, like the finest sushi I have ever tasted_.] [ _It's so good_.] [ _I love it._ ]

[ _sushi?_ ]

Izaya ignores that. He licks his lips in concentration and thinks he's doing really well. Damn, he really wants this sushi. [ _I savor the taste._ ] [ _Slide my tongue back along the underside._ ] [ _I kiss smooth texture_.] [ _I feel myself getting hard and hungry_.] [ _I want you wet and melting in my mouth_.]

[ _can you just put it in already? I feel like a fucking popsicle_.]

[ _I'm getting there! Jeez!_ ] [ _You shouldn't talk back to someone who's giving you head._ ]

[ _yeah well if you were using your mouth properly then you wouldn't be able to talk back either_ ]

Izaya snorts. Though grudgingly he makes a valid point. [ _Working my mouth up to the best part_ ] [ _I kiss the head_ ] [ _and blow you a sweet kiss_.] [ _Your dick_ twitches _in appreciation_.] "You hear that, Shizu-chan? Appreciation! Show me some gratitude!" He returns to typing. [ _I lick the tip and yes_!] [ _That's where the deliciousness comes from!_ ] [ _It's salty and a little bitter but tastes so good_ ] [ _I kiss you full on_ ] [ _wrap my lips tight_ ]

[ _then I push your head forward_ ] Shizuo interrupts. [ _and_ finally _it's starting to feel good_.]

Izaya rolls his eyes. Obviously, foreplay isn't in Shizuo's vernacular. [ _Yes. Your dick swells bigger in my mouth_ ] Like a monster. [ _I suck really hard_.] [ _Pull you all the way to the back of my throat_ ] Maybe now Shizuo will give him what he wants. If he's annoyed enough. [ _Show me how hard you are_.] He hesitates for just a second. [ _Send nudes_.]

[ _Goddammit!_ ] [ _No_ ,] [ _as if you deserve it_.] [ _You have to do a much better job than this_.]

"What!?" Izaya yells. "You wouldn't be saying that if it was for..." Oh, _right_.

[ _But I think I'll do much better with a visual._ ] He types.

[ _you have a blindfold on. Use your imagination_.] [ _and we talked about not talking back._ ]

"Damn you, Shizu-chan." [ _Fine_.] Izaya's about to type an emoticon '( #｀∧´)' but stops because he doesn't want to piss Shizuo off. [ _I get back to sucking_ ] [ _your cock throbs in my mouth_ ] [ _so good_ ]

[ _Fucking hell_ ] [ _yeah you suck_ ] [ _suck balls_!] [ _I thought you said you were good at giving head_ ]

[ _I am!_ ] [ _I would be if you wouldn't interrupt_ ] [ _every other word_!] 

[ _you've never given head before, now have you?_ ]

[ _What!?_ ] [ _Yes, I have_.] [ _Loads of times!_ ]

[ _You're an awful liar_.]

"And you wouldn't know a good blow job if it hit you in the face!" _Heh_.

[ _Then I pull off the blindfold and slap you across the face!_ ] [ _then you cum_.] [ _Twice_ ] [ _because I'm just that good_.] "There! Best orgasm ever!" He glares at his phone. Yeah, suck on that!

[ _oh really?_ ] [ _Then I throw you on the bed_ ] [ _I'll slap your ass_ ] [ _then I'll use my own cum_ ]

Izaya's eyes widen. _[Oh, you wouldn't dare!]_ "I'll kick you in the face before..." His phone is already going off. Message after message.

[ _To coat my fingers_ ] [ _and shove them in your ass_ ] [ _You moan_ ] [ _loudly_ ] [ _each time I move my fingers in and out_ ] [ _I remove the pillow that you're trying to hide your moans in_ ] [ _and there's nothing to stop you from begging for me_ ] [ _you want it_ ] [ _clenching around my fingers_ ] _[I have to slap your ass to get you to stop_ ] [ _but you don't_ ] [ _you never do_ ] [ _even with my cum dripping from your ass it's not enough_ ] [ _I lift up your hips_ ] [ _cause you can't move them yourself_ ] [ _and I bend you over_ ] [ _face down_ ] [ _ramming inside_ ] [ _pounding_ ] [ _the whole bed shakes_ ] [ _you do too_ ] [ _you're a fuckin mess_ ] [ _with each thrust_ ] [ _you don't even last an entire minute_ ] [ _cumming on the bed while I'm still going_ ] [ _fucking you so you never forget_ ] [ _just who you're messing with_ ]

The constant messages stop abruptly. Izaya can only stare at his phone. His heart's beating wildly and his mouth is dry. The worst part is that he's achingly frustrated and hard.


	5. Not quite dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's sure that he's scared off the pervert for good this time.

There isn't a _single_ message on his phone, not one, and it's been over fourteen hours since the last. It feels good. He's sure that he's scared off the pervert for good this time. Who knew out doing a pervert could be so effective? But it's worth it since the harassment is thankfully fucking over.

He goes out to celebrate and treats himself to a well-deserved milkshake.

It's just his luck then. The moment Shizuo so much as thinks he's going to have a good day, some idiot with his head screwed on too tight comes at him from behind, wielding a wooden bat with nails. The strike is so hard against his shoulder, the nails are bending backward. It's just his rotten luck like any other day.

He grabs the bat before it can hit him again and breaks it in half. He wants to break it over the man's face, but he stops because it'll only kill the dumbass and Shizuo doesn't want to kill him so quickly.

"You wanna die?" Shizuo yells as he punches the man straight in the face. It's with some satisfaction that teeth break and blood gushes from his nose. "If I was someone else I'd be dead! Unlucky for you, now you'll be dead!"

The second punch is just as satisfying as the man literally goes flying, but it doesn't last when a whole slew of dumbasses decide now would be a good time to play a violent game of baseball with their wooden bats. Fuck them for ruining his good mood!

When it's all over, and everyone is either half a city away or in the cement, he cracks his knuckles and fixes his shirt. They are lucky he hadn't been wearing his uniform because then he wouldn't have gone so easy on them. It's while he's shaking out his arm that he notices just how bad his shoulder is. The nails had torn up his skin and he's bleeding too much to just ignore. Fuck, he'll have to visit Shinra's.

Shizuo walks the side roads on his way, but still it's a little crowded and people openly stare at him as he goes by. It's unnerving and he should be used to it, but it's not until the underground doctor's door clicks open that Shizuo can breathe easy.

"Shizuo!" Shinra takes one look at him and immediately spots the blood that by now is making his shirt stick. "Oh. Well, that doesn't look so good. Come on in, just mind the couch. It's new." Shinra speaks as he moves about and gets his supplies. "So what happened this time?"

"Just a bunch of people came after me. Same old." Shizuo sits on a stool since the couch does look a lot better than he remembers it to be. He's probably the reason why Shinra had to have it replaced in the first place.

"There are still people picking fights with you? Pretty hard to believe." In his hands is a kit. "You're going to have to take off your shirt."

Shizuo picks up the bottom of his ruined shirt and peels it over his head. The bleeding hasn't completely stopped. Shinra is examining it from behind him.

"This looks worse than normal. What did they hit you with?"

"They had those wooden bats with nails."

Shinra whistles softly. "Seriously? This is only a superficial wound at best. I think your muscles are getting tighter. It's amazing what your body can do in order to survive. Hey, you know since I never charge you, maybe now is a good chance for a blood sample? Who knows, the research could benefit all of science."

"Not happening. You're just going to do something weird with my blood."

"Hey, I would never dream of it."

Something clicks in his mind. It's partly because Shinra is examining him with so much attention that Shizuo can feel his skin crawl where the warm press of fingers glides over his skin.

Shinra's body type matches close to the photos on his phone...shit, now that he's thinking about it, the perverted doctor has been going on for years how he wants to experiment on his body. It only now occurs to him that maybe Shinra has been a little too fascinated with his strength and his body than he could ever imagine.

And while normally Shinra only asks for blood samples there was that one time he handed him a cup and one of those skimpily clad magazines and wanted another kind of sample. Of course, Shizuo had smacked him hard enough to never try that shit again, but looking back at that...maybe Shinra has only been after his body this entire time. Maybe his self-professed love for Celty is only a grand cover for what he really wants.

Fuck, what if Shinra's trying to make clones or something from the photos he sent. It's enough for Shizuo to go pale. "Shinra..."

"Hmm?" Shinra cleans the wound with something that stings and Shizuo is distracted for a moment. "Is there something else?"

"You wouldn't happen to, you know, want a physical, right now?"

"Why, do you have the time? I was thinking about asking you to come by later this week. It's been awhile since I last checked you out."

Shinra is cleaning out the wound, wiping the blood off gently. Shit, he must be pretty blind to not realize Shinra's obsessive feelings before. "No, no, I don't. I can't. Sorry, not this week."

"You okay? Your heart rate just sped up."

Shizuo stands and turns around. Shinra looks up at him in confusion, the rag in his hand is bright red and Shizuo backs up and hits the corner of the coffee table by accident.

"Have you been texting me inappropriate things?"

"Eh?" Shinra blinks at him slowly.

"Shinra, have you been sending me," Shizuo pauses for a second and gets it out of him like it's dripping poison from his tongue, "nudes?"

"What?" Shinra's eyebrows raise then furrow. "Someone's been sending you nudes? And you think it's _me_?" Shinra laughs in delight and it burns hot at his cheeks. It does sound a bit outrageous now that he thinks about it, but still, it's not like Shinra isn't a pervert. "Maybe if you were Celty..." He gets this wild look in his eyes. "Oh, that would be nice. We aren't anywhere close to there yet, she hasn't even agreed to be my girlfriend, but a man can dream, right? She'd never agree to send pictures of herself, but I love her anyway, no, I love her even more for that."

Before Shinra can go off any further, Shizuo cuts him off. "So you haven't been sending me them?"

"No. Of course not."

"Okay, that's all I wanted to know."

"You sure it isn't Izaya?"

Shizuo bristles all at once. He's eyeing the brand new couch next to him and in one motion, it's over his head.

Shinra lifts up his hands, the bloody rag still in his hands. "I'm joking. Sorry, sorry. Please don't hurt me. In all honesty, I wouldn't put it past him to send you something like that, but I don't think even he would send you his own nudes. You probably have a stalker on your hands."

He takes a deep breath to clear his thoughts. "Yeah, no shit. I was thinking the same thing, but the good thing is that I think I scared him away anyway."

"Great. So how about you drop the couch and I can fix your shoulder?" Shizuo does just that and Shinra smiles brightly and pats the stool in front of him.

Shizuo obediently sits and the treatment continues. It's nearly over when Shizuo thinks to ask, "say, you've treated a lot of people, you don't think maybe you could, I don't know, identify the guy?"

"What? From his penis?"

Shizuo cringes. "Fuck man! _Really?_ "

"Sorry, that's what I assumed when you said nudes. What did he send pics of his ass? I guess I could take a look then, though I doubt it'd help."

"Y'know what? No. I shouldn't have brought it up. This is precisely why I thought it was you. Never mention this to anyone, ya hear me? I mean it. Not to Celty, or yourself, or even to me. Alright?" Shizuo has to turn his body to stare him in the eyes.

"Yup, I heard you." Shinra smiles.

Of course, his day could only go worse. When Shizuo leaves it's with a bandaged shoulder and a borrowed shirt. His own is in the trash. It's not the first time this has happened and by now it's practically routine. He'll return it later this week, washed, and with a snack or something.

He decides to head to work early by walking the rest of the way to cool his head. He stops by a convenience store for a quick snack. By the time it's nearing five, he's early for work and changing into his uniform. It's with a bit of relish that there aren't any notes in his locker and Shizuo takes it as a good sign.

He puts his phone away and it's the start of another day at work making drinks for people who mostly are smart enough to not talk to him beyond their orders. He's also glad that lover boy with his groupie of girls doesn't come strolling in. None of the customers bother with him or stare for too long and Shizuo gets into the routine of things. It's practically the same before the persistent notes came in. Boring but calm.

The stress of the day goes away with the hours and he doesn't feel the pain in his shoulder any longer. After he has cleaned and closed the shop front, he's rigid as he checks his phone, having not done so the entire time he had been working. A part of him still doesn't believe it's over. He expects a message. This is around the time he normally gets one because of course, this person knows his schedule. It's the first thing he checks for in the small enclosed locker room, and there's nothing. He checks his clothes for a written message and again there is nothing.

He dresses quietly and heads back home and each block he turns on his phone and there are no new messages. When he wakes up the next morning, he's expecting something that isn't there. Shizuo doesn't get it. While he was hoping that he scared off the guy—and it was what he wanted—now that he has, he can't seem to really believe it. It feels more like a trick than anything.

Seriously, after harassing him for months, the guy just gives up? Just like that? Frankly, it was unsettling and a little insulting. Did he find someone new to mess with?

Shizuo frowns. Whatever. This is for the best. It's good there aren't any new messages.

His day passes without any trouble. No one picks a fight with him or annoys him at work. He goes through the rest of the week with very little interruption and it's positively the calmest week he's ever gone through in such a long time. It almost feels like a vacation from the normal shit he's used to except it's incredibly mundane and boring. The flea hasn't shown himself for awhile and it's disconcerting.

It takes him a week to realize that maybe the unknown text offender wants him to initiate contact and Shizuo isn't desperate enough to do it, though for a crazy moment he considers it as he sits in his dark room with his phone in hand. He hasn't looked at the photos the entire time and now he considers deleting them. It's pointless to keep them. He scrolls up under the unknown caller's and his messages and he goes through the massive sequence of texts he last sent. He can't so much as read a single sentence without getting a flare of warmth that's part embarrassment and part remembered interest. He gets to the picture and hovers over the trash icon on his phone before deciding it's too nice to delete.

He considers texting since tomorrow is his day off and he can't sleep anyway. He has no idea what to say and there is something significantly different about initiating. Shizuo puts down his phone immediately when he sees the simple text he was about to send. It's a simple [ _hey, you dead?_ ] but actually sending that is impossible. He goes to his balcony and smokes. It's one thing to be lonely. It's another thing to be lonely enough to talk to his now gone pervert-stalker.

Shit. He's annoyed at himself for almost sending that. Two cigarettes later, and Shizuo feels calmer. He's going to delete the photos and the conversation history because he just wants to forget.

When he goes back inside ready to do just that and picks up his phone, he's hit with a surge of disbelief.

Of course. Of fucking course, it's when he's willing to put it behind him that there are two more messages. He's ready to tell this guy what's up for having the fucking gall to contact him again. He's pissed now, so incredibly pissed at the timing.

But as he opens to see them, he's even more horrified because it's not some twisted fate that this happens or because of his terrible luck after deciding once and for all to be done with this—hell, maybe it _is_ his terrible luck. The message he wrote before and what he thought he deleted had actually sent. The [ _hey, you dead?_ ] was clearly visible and below it was two short texts.

[ _No._ ]

[ _Did someone miss me?_ ]

Shizuo's too caught in his own emotions to do the smart thing. He's so overcome, on edge and awake, his brain might as well have gone on holiday— _bye, it was nice knowing you, I'll send a postcard when who the fuck knows._

He immediately writes up a reply.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter 46 of ACI is also finished though that one is going out on a specific day. I love hearing all of your thoughts! No need to be shy! The next chapter is almost done as well, I just gotta look it over :D


	6. Out of focus

Izaya hardly believes it himself; it’s with absolute humiliation and mortification that Shizuo, with the intelligence of a bean, could actually beat him at his own game.

He had done the one thing to never do: underestimate Heiwajima Shizuo. Not only had Shizuo beaten him and made him into a complete fool, but now he can't so much as wander the streets of Ikebukuro without his mind going straight into the gutter. What was fun at first turned out to be very not fun very quickly and Izaya cut his losses short.

The photos that he first perceived as victory are now wiped clean from all of his devices (he conveniently didn't break the USB they were saved in but he told himself that was because he may need them one day for blackmail purposes though, in reality, such a thing would never happen because he vowed Shizuo would never know about this, but really that was beside the point) and Izaya has repeated to himself this was all behind him. It was a mistake and he should never have done something so stupid.

He almost believes it. A week passes and at the most inconvenient times, he’s struck with the memory of his dick hard and untouched and Shizuo’s texts playing out in vivid detail in his head. Sometimes it’s all he can think about and it infuriates him as his body responds.

The other humiliating thing is that Shizuo is obviously not bothered by this at all. He hasn't texted. He’s probably smug in knowing what he’s done and it’s because Izaya fears being found out and worse, for this to escalate into– into something more disgusting that he drops the game entirely.

Shit, how is he going to be able to walk in his own city and face Shizuo? With his threats and his dick in his thoughts? Why had any of this ever been a good idea!?

And now he’s up again! Unable to sleep and thinking about this when he has an important day tomorrow. He needs Shizuo to stop occupying his thoughts! He should forget about those dick pics completely. Fuck! As if he’s going to let Shizuo’s dick haunt him for the rest of his life!

His phone vibrates and Izaya groans as he slides the passcode in the dark and looks at it because it doesn't matter who the hell it is disturbing him at night because he needs something else to think about and be mad at.

He actually drops the phone on his face as he sees just who sent the message. It must be a trick of the lighting!

He sits up immediately, turns on the lamp next to his bed, and reads that he has one new message. He’s staring, he knows he is, but he can't help it as the caller displays Shizu-chan on his phone. He drums his fingers on his lap before curiosity gets the better of him and he must know what the message says.

[ _hey, you dead?_ ]

He laughs. He sets his phone down and lets his shoulders shake and his vision goes blurry as he laughs. He’s delighted. The grin on his face widens and Izaya makes a horrible noise in the back of his throat in excitement.

He hasn’t lost the game. All the humiliation at thinking that Shizuo bested him vanishes as quickly as his heart accelerates. He can't believe it. It’s too good to be true.

“Hah, and who said I never gave head before, hmm? You did like it, I knew it.” Izaya grins as he thinks up a quick reply. He keeps it short because he doesn't want to seem too interested.

[ _No._ ] “Unfortunately for you, Shizu-chan, I’m very much alive.”

[ _Did someone miss me?_ ]

He waits and as the minutes tick by, he begins to frown. He doesn't respond anymore even if he wants to. This is Shizuo’s turn to make the move and Izaya is curious what this means.

When five minutes pass and still nothing, Izaya wonders why he’s staring blankly at his phone, waiting in anticipation for whatever Shizuo wants.

 _Oh, this is precisely why this is a bad idea,_ Izaya thinks sourly, but a reply comes and he’s on track once more.

[ _didnt mean to send that_ ]

Izaya doesn't believe it. He’s grinning too wide to believe anything else now that he has him.

[ _That only means that you had written it with the intention of sending it. The fact that you didn't mean to is irrelevant._ ]

[ _no, I mean wrong person_ ] [ _my phone malfunctioned_ ]

[ _And now you can't even keep your story straight. Just admit it. You wanted to text me._ ]

[ _Dammit! Didn't mean to_.] [ _really_ ] [ _shit_ ] [ _I was trying delete it!_ ] [ _dammit_ ] [ _I mean it wasn’t on purpose..._ ] [ _ugh. My finger must have slipped could you just forget I texted you_ ] [ _thanks_ ] [ _oh and before I forget_ ] [ _fuck you and don'ttext me again_ ]

“Oh, Shizu-chan,” he says, mockingly.

[ _have a bad week?_ ] he types. As the wait extends, it occurs to him that maybe Shizuo seriously intends to no longer reply.

_Shizu-chan, if you don't answer me back, I’ll make sure tomorrow is the worst day of your life. I’ll—_

His phone chimes.

[ _the fuck did I just text?_ ]

Izaya grips the phone harder. [ _I don't know, it certainly wasn't any Japanese I’m familiar with. And by now I think we’re past that point, don't you? So how was your week?_ ]

[ _As if you care. You were probably watching me or some creepy shit so you already know_ ]

Izaya, for once, hadn't sent any thugs after Shizuo or done anything involving the other because though it was fun to antagonize him, he didn't want to give Shizuo any reason to actively search for him.

Which means it must have been a pretty dull week if Shizuo was seeking ‘him’ out.

[ _I wasn't. I do have my own life_.]

[ _what? Beyond soliciting yourself and others for nudes? Hard to imagine_ ]

Izaya snickers. _How wonderful. Is that what you think 'I' do?_ [ _As fun as that is, it doesn't pay the bills_ _._ ]

A new message pops up after a pause. [ _so what the hell happened to you?_ ]

[ _Nothing_.] [ _Just busy with work_.] It’s a lie, but it’ll make Shizuo think he isn't important enough and that in turn makes Izaya very happy.

[ _oh. I thought I scared you off with my last texts_ ] [ _that’s too bad_ ] [ _if you're busy then I’ll let you go_ ]

Izaya scoffs. “As if I’ll let you off that easy.” [ _I was sleeping when I heard my phone go off. And now I can't sleep. You better make this worth my while._ ]

[ _and that's my fault, how?_ ]

[ _I’m waiting_.] He writes. The message doesn't come right away but that doesn't deter him in the slightest. Izaya kicks off the blanket to free his legs. “Come on,” Izaya mutters. If Shizuo backs out now, he’ll be seriously livid. He’ll make Shizuo pay dearly.

[ _what are you wearing_?]

It’s positively juvenile but Izaya goes with it anyway. He’s only in his soft pajama set but there are some things he has under his bed just for the off chance of this exact moment. Izaya strips out of his pants and boxers as fast as possible and pulls on something black and sheer. It’s supposed to be worn with something underneath, but Izaya likes it like this—slightly see through shorts. It had crossed his mind, after he had ordered it, how messed up it was that he bought this for Shizuo to see on him, but right now he’s very glad he had the foresight for this. His past self knew it would come in handy and was no idiot. It glides on, slightly coarse, and the friction along his legs has him biting his bottom lip. He keeps his button up shirt on but it’s good because it doesn't do a good job covering what’s below.

[ _Why don't I show you_.]

He goes to his camera settings and points his phone down. He plays around with his clothes till he has an angle that he likes and takes a photo. It’s good even if it is a little dark. He sends it immediately.

[ _shit_ ] [ _that’s hot_ ]

Izaya is all the more happy with his purchase. [And what are you wearing?]

[ _Just in my boxers_ ] How predictable. [ _hold on a sec_ ]

Izaya stares at his phone while waiting, he doesn't close his messages or check his emails or go on a chat room while waiting. It’s as if he’s been waiting for this for a week and in a way he has and now it's impossible to pull himself way. The message comes with a noise from his phone and Izaya taps the attachment.

It is exactly as Shizuo had described. He’s only in his boxers, nothing special, but it is nice all the same because to Izaya it’s almost an invitation to his bed. Instead of his own photo which showed a perspective pointed downwards, Shizuo must have figured out the timer on his phone or the reverse camera button because this one is him sitting on his bed, facing the light source. Half the picture is in the dark, which means the quality isn't very good, but what he can see has a soft glow and Izaya traces the bared skin, the hint of muscles lining his slim torso, and stops where his eyes reach the cloth and dark shape beneath those boxers.

[ _Take off the boxers_.] Izaya types. It’s pushy and demanding, just like a certain brute, but after getting denied a dick pic last time, he wants it first and foremost. These are his terms. There is a heightened sense of control now that Shizuo contacted him first, gave in, and Izaya relishes it and will use it to his advantage.

He relishes it, even more, when Shizuo responds. [ _fine_ ]

“Ahh, you have no idea, Shizu-chan. No idea at all.” He’s giddy all over again and remembers why this was so much fun before.

Shizuo messages back too soon, and he clicks his tongue while reading it. [ _but while you wait, you better take a photo of yourself as well_ ]

It’s no matter. He was going to reward Shizuo after all. [ _Very well_ ]

He doesn't take off his sheer shorts, but he unfastens a few buttons and he feels himself through the material and doesn't stop until he's fully hard and it’s showing, constricted and bare. He has to pull his shorts down his thighs a little because they are too short, but it doesn't matter since it looks better this way. He takes a few photos and removes his shirt and since he’s still waiting, he goes onto his stomach, sets his phone on the night table, and waits five seconds before the shutter goes off.

He sits back up and expects something on his phone. Shizuo has yet to respond. “How long does it take you to pull off your boxers, you thick-headed—”

His phone goes off and Izaya waits as the loading button comes on before the picture does. Any scathing remark flies out of his head and shoots somewhere very far away. There is only one sharp inhale and he has no words.

It’s everything he wanted. Shizuo had made the effort to stand and turn on the lights overhead and it makes a complete difference. The photo is clear, lit up, and focused, and Shizuo is hard in his hand and completely naked.

His eyes are practically dry before he remembers there is such a thing as blinking—and _breathing!_

“Oh,” Izaya says and breathes again. It’s suddenly very warm and he struggles to swallow. Realizing Shizuo must be waiting, Izaya sends the five pictures he took prior, not bothering to select and go through them when he has _this_ in front of him.

[ _i want to rip those shorts off_ ]

Izaya does too. He shimmies out of them to his thighs and he wishes he could send a video of that but he's too impatient for it to be any good. His shorts make it no further when he reads the next text and stops.

[ _i want you spread open between my fingers_ ]

Izaya fights the drawer open to get the lube. Books and notes scatter to the floor but he needs to catch up. [ _yes, do that_ ] he texts.

He can't justify what he's doing, it's all mush at this point, and he uncaps the lid and groans when he realizes he never removed the safety seal. He forces it off too quick and cool liquid gushes out onto his hand.

It doesn't matter. He uses that hand between his legs but he can't reach far enough for what he plans and he twists to his side and reaches behind himself. The lube slides between his cheeks and he hesitates a second before a slick finger goes deep inside and Izaya grips his phone and it creaks in its case. Thank god he files his nails. Another text comes.

[ _how many fingers do you have inside of you?_ ]

Instead of being annoyed or flustered that Shizuo somehow knows what he’s doing, Izaya is turned on further. He pushes in all the way to the knuckle.

[ _one_ ] he texts, hot around his neck.

[ _add another_ ]

His eyes widen because it doesn't even feel like there is room for another. He moves his finger and he’s tight around the single digit. it occurs to him to lie and say he does, but that's not good enough; it’ll break the illusion.

He closes his eyes. It’s only another finger. One wasn't so bad, he reasons. His middle finger, wet and foreign to his own ass, joins the other slowly. He’s wrong, it’s not only another finger. His phone makes a noise and he opens his eyes.

[ _good. Now move them slowly_ ]

“You’re going too fast, you monster.” There isn't much more that he can do besides drag them joint by joint out and back in. He curls his fingers and stretches, trying to make room for what he imagines to be coming next. Sweat is forming where he rests his hand over his waist. He can't touch his own dick but he uses what is close by, first the mattress, then the confines of his own legs. The change of positions allows him to find a better way to slide his own fingers. His face presses into the mattress and he has to turn his head and open one eye in order to text.

[ _it feels good_ ]

[ _you can do better than that_ ]

He’s never hated Shizuo more than at this moment. He doesn't want to fall behind though. [ _you’re cruel._ ] He texts and pushes in a third. The fit isn't too terrible now that he’s expecting it and fighting it as if it’s Shizuo himself doing this to him. He grits his teeth, curls in his fingers against what he’s only now realizing is his prostate. His dick is harder as if he hasn't touched it in months and there isn't anything he can do for it beyond the slight grind he has going.

[ _then show me just how cruel I am_ ]

He does better than that—has to in order to come out on top. It’s not a picture he sends but a video. It takes two tries to get the angle, but once he does, he’s not at all shy with the click of a button.

He stifles his moans into the cloth beneath him and his own saliva dampens the soft area against his lips. He closes his eyes and imagines it’s not his own hand. In a way, it’s not.

Izaya’s never known this feeling, he hasn't yet used the toys be bought. Now he wishes that he had; he’s never had an orgasm like this. It takes him by surprise because it’s deeper and it’s coming further from inside of him and all of that force pushes out of him. He can't muffle his own noises completely, but to his own ears, he sounds nothing like himself.

It’s out of sheer stubbornness that he reaches for the phone and only stops the recording after pulling out his own fingers. Too boneless to lift his body up completely, he watches the first few seconds before sending it. His room smells like sex, there’s a wet spot under him that’s more than his usual load, and he realizes belatedly he hadn't even touched his own dick. Izaya groans into the mattress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may work on Beating Hearts next. But if anyone has any ideas for what could happen in the following chapters, I'd love to hear it. <3 Already I got some great ideas from readers.
> 
> Also I'm still working on who Shizuo could possibly imagine his text offender to be...his list is narrowing down to Izaya very quickly, haha. His detective skills are in denial land.


	7. it comes with a price

There are five photos on his screen. After each text he sends, he swipes back up to see them. Shizuo’s never thought of sheer boxer briefs as sexy, but on this person it is. The last photo is his favorite. In that one, the shirt is gone and the curve of his back leads right to that sheer garment. There is something inviting about it. This person has to be a jogger or a swimmer because his ass and legs are perfect and smooth.

He wishes the following texts have a play-by-play of pictures as well, but instead he imagines sliding the material down and kneading the softness apart. He’s hard and a little impatient in his own hand. Shizuo imagines it's his own fingers gently opening him.

He has to wait after his last text for the next message. His phone chimes, it’s warm and sweaty in his hand. He plays it immediately and while he likes what he sees, he jumps at the first unexpected moan stifled in bed sheets. It has him strangely nervous since the walls of his place are paper thin and his neighbors don’t need to know what he does at one in the morning. He gets a pair of headphones from inside a drawer.

It’s better this way anyway, since he can adjust the noise, and he does, loudly before starting the video from the beginning.

The angle is slightly different to the last photo, this new position has him leaning on his side, his back towards the camera. One leg is tucked closer to his body and it gives his ass a nice slope. The video cuts just at his shoulder blades and then down further to where the black sheer material is clinging mid-thigh.

Shizuo, with his interest now completely fixed, has eyes only for that ass and the three fingers that push in further before retreating out so he sees the glistening lube on those fingers and the trail it has made along his skin. It’s nearly perfect, except not everything is visible, fuck, his phone screen is too small. He tries but can't zoom in. It makes him grab his dick incredibly hard in frustration, but thank goodness nothing breaks and the pressure actually feels amazing.

He’ll need to buy a new phone or something soon, and figure out a way to save the photos—this video especially.

Another moan, ragged and muffled, goes directly from his ears to his dick, missing his brain by a kilometer considering how fast his dick throbbed. Shizuo’s not so good at multitasking since his concentration is more on the screen in front of him, but he jerks off clumsily and unthinkingly matches the timing of that hand.

Well, one thing’s for sure. It’s definitely not Izaya because Izaya sounds like a garbage can literally opening and closing and what he hears now isn't a trash can moaning. No, it’s far from that.

The man in the video shifts his hips forward and it’s a loud, sheet-in-mouth, unbridled noise that has Shizuo close and moving his hand quickly to follow him. If he were there he would be yanking those fingers away and pushing his way in so deeply, that one slide would be the end of the man and the beginning of a long night.

In the video, his muscles flex before he seems to deflate, and the last noise is a groan that drags with more vocals than breath.

Shizuo pauses. His brain catches up and is on alert because the noise instinctively has him on edge, but the suspicion passes as his own orgasm is a full body sensation of bliss and nothing matters right now because he feels so good. He just wishes he doesn't have to message the person and have his peaceful mood ruined. What the hell was he supposed to say anyway? He thinks this over as he cleans up the cum that landed on his leg and bedsheet.

[thanks] he types but then deletes ‘cause he doesn't know what to say and he would rather not text even if it is rude. He puts his phone down and gets ready to sleep. He still feels pretty amazing and falls asleep quickly.

When he wakes up and slowly gets ready for the morning, it’s only while he’s munching on eggs and bread that he remembers to check his phone. There are four unread messages. He frowns since he never usually gets so many in the morning. Then he remembers. Oh, yeah. He never responded, now did he?

[You enjoying yourself?]  
[I think I deserve something for that.]  
[Hey, you there?]  
[Did you seriously fall asleep?]

The texts show that the person waited at least fifteen minutes from the first text to the last. Oops. [thanks for last night] he texts [my bad must have fallen asleep]. It's probably good enough. He’s mildly surprised his phone chimes almost instantly.

[Nice of you to finally respond.]

[hey, I responded back, didn't I] Shizuo texts. His phone chimes again.

[Yes, only 9 hours late. It must have been pretty good if it knocked you out that quickly and for that long.]

Fuck, he hates this person so much. So annoying like a certain self-entitled flea. How the hell is he supposed to respond to that? It was okay?

Shizuo snorts and takes another bite of eggs. [im eating breakfast. I’m busy]

[Clearly, you are.] [Then later tonight?]

Shizuo considers it. Saying yes means a lot more than just going along. [I don't know] [depends] [I might be busy sleeping]

[Something tells me you won't be. I'm also busy now. Later.]

Shizuo doesn’t respond and he sets his phone down. Why does he get a bad feeling from this? Well, whatever, he doesn't have to respond if he doesn't feel like it.

He has most of the rest of the morning to himself, but by two thirty, he’s getting ready for work. The streets are just as crowded as they should be on a Friday afternoon. It means the bar will be busier than normal. That also means someone will get drunk off their ass and will be very tempting to punch.

His hands are in his pockets as he walks. He’s not really paying all that much attention to where he’s going since his feet know where to take him by now. Something does catch his eye. A simple sleek car with tinted windows is pulled to the curb and sitting idle. Everyone else stays clear away, making obvious effort to walk as far away from the curb as they can. Shizuo doesn't completely process this till he’s already about to pass by. There is a man in a white suit, leaning against the car and smoking. He’s obviously older with intimidating features and wrinkles from probably glaring way too much. It’s only a moment that their eyes meet, and Shizuo knows this man isn’t like the street thugs that prowl after him. This guy is dangerous and seems to recognize him, though Shizuo doesn't place his face.

He passes by and he can tell the man is still watching him as he goes. The man probably has too many wrinkles to be his text-offender, even if he is similar in height and is slim. Ugh, he doesn't need the mental image of a random naked old man, fucking hell, now he can't unsee it. His face pulls. Just great, that's what he needs on a Friday afternoon.

Tending the bar is busy work, but sometimes it's nice since it discourages people from actively talking to him. Both of the other co-workers are here as well. It’s almost a peaceful night. He’s pouring a rather complicated order when the door opens and he doesn't look up till he’s done. Shit, sometimes he just really hates his job.

There are two kids, one is flashing his ID like it’s his VIP ticket in here, and the other is hanging back, obviously nervous, and for good reason. It doesn't matter that they aren't wearing their school uniforms because anyone could tell they weren’t high school students yet. But the shit for brains co-worker, whose name is either Fujimoto or Fujimura, is shrugging and letting them take two seats. Oh, come on. He’s actually getting their order as well. Shizuo doesn't wait to hear it.

And though technically he’s not supposed to leave the bar unattended for even a moment, probably because each time he walks out there, something bad happens, but since these are kids, Shizuo won’t actually hurt them. “Show me your IDs.”

These teenagers are tall for their age, probably why they thought they could get away with this. The one with dyed hair is cocky as ever.

“Well, of course,” he hands it over. “It’s understandable. I’ve been told quite often I have a baby face, though Mikado, I mean McRabu, he’s the unfortunate one really. Look at all these hamster cheeks. Can you believe he’s twenty?” The loud one pulls the shy one’s cheek like it's a mochi. “See.”

“Hey!” The kid slaps his hand away. His cheek is now red, while the other side is pink in embarrassment. He has a nervous look in his eyes as he shifts his gaze and hands over his ID.

Shizuo rips the plastic ID cards and tears it like paper. Recognition dawns on the dyed haired kid as his eyes lower to the name tag that says Heiwajima. Fascination mixed with honest surprise strikes the other. It’s a little creepy, to be honest.

“If I catch you two pulling this shit again, I’ll be kicking you out of here.”

“Yes, sir,” the blond kid says and the more shy one nods. They hastily scramble out the door.

Shizuo still has the plastic pieces in his hands and he throws it away. He tells his co-worker not to let kids in, but it’s hard to tell by his shrug if he will or not. The other patrons who had been watching warily now resume drinking as Shizuo returns to the bar. Some know about his temper, but a few others quickly pay for their drinks and leave. Honestly, Shizuo doesn't care. If they want to fuck off then good, it’s fewer people he’ll have to deal with.

The troublesome thing is, what happened earlier makes him realize that the text-offender could be much younger than he seems. Shizuo doesn't think the person is too old or a kid, but junior high school students these days do seem to be growing way too fast. They're drinking, getting into gangs, and what not—shit, it’d be a fucking crime if the text-offender were a kid. He’s 99.9989 percent sure he’s not, but still, he feels like this is something he should have thought before, fuck.

It’s during a short break that he goes to the locker room to use his phone. [hey, how old are you] he texts. He brings his phone with him to the bathroom.

The response comes after he washes his face. [53] [My birthday was a week ago.]

Shizuo bites the inside of his lip. Is that why he never shows his face? Now the image of a random naked old man is there and the face he is making in the mirror is less than pleased. Well, he doesn't have to worry the person is too young, huh? Except he's obviously lying because the image in his head doesn't match the one on his phone.

[midlife crisis? That explains a lot] Shizuo sees a lot of those men out in the bar. As long as they don't talk to him, he doesn't mind them. Also, he should have known this person would lie to him. [okay, gotta go, work]

[University age, actually.]

Shizuo pauses from leaving. He should just go, but he's typing a response anyway. [what already dropping the creepy old man act, that was fast]

[Yeah, I didn't think the story about the wife and kids leaving me would garner that much sympathy. So how about a quick pic?]

The very thought has him annoyed. Not because he’s working, he doesn't give a fuck about that, but because this is the uniform his brother gave him and he’s not going to defile his precious clothes with nudes.

[fuck no]

[It’ll only take a second.]

[not while I’m in uniform]

[So? It’s not like anyone can identify you in your uniform. You’re not the only bartender in Japan.]

[no, these clothes were a gift from someone important] [fuck off I said I'm working] He turns off his phone before he wastes any more time or gets any angrier.

The bar seems to get quieter when he returns. Shizuo mindlessly goes through the orders, and thankfully, no one tries to talk to him and his late night shift ends with no further trouble. Except when everyone is out, and he opens his locker to find two boxes stacked on top of each other.

Shizuo's already unbuttoning his vest when he sees the cardboard in the bottom. He’s alone in the room, but he still looks around to see if anyone is close by. A moment of deliberation passes and he picks one up. For a second he knows it's Izaya, but the flea's stench isn't here. It's the text-offender, but that isn't much better either.

There is no address or name as he picks it up and shakes it. He rips the top off, and inside is a yellow sign, something similar to a traffic sign, in bold font that says ‘beware of bartender’. While Shizuo knows he should be annoyed, this is actually something he’s wished he could display while working and now that he has it, he might as well use it during the times he knows the manager or owner won't pop in. Hey, it gives the customers a fair warning before he tosses them out on the street.

‘For tonight’ the other box has written along the top. Shizuo debates whether he should just throw this away now and spare himself whatever is inside of this because surely it can't be anything good. Well, the last box wasn’t too bad. Shizuo decides to open it against his better judgment. Bright pink tissue paper lines the inside. He lifts the white material out and it soon becomes evident it's a white dress uniform for nurses. He Immediately shoves it back in the box.

What the fuck? No, seriously, what the fuck?

He’s in serious danger of breaking shit here, so he doesn't bother changing clothes and he takes the box out with him. The only reason he doesn't immediately find a garbage can is because there are no fucking garbage cans on his way home and he’s not throwing away that shit at work where his nosy manager checks the garbage is properly sorted. Yeah, Shizuo can already see that biting him in the ass.

The buttons are close to breaking when he takes out his phone.  [the fuck is this?] His apartment is in sight, he’s rounding the corner when his phone vibrates.

[Now you won’t have any problem taking a photo in uniform, right?]

“Asshole,” Shizuo mumbles. The cardboard under his arm is more squished than road kill. If that fucker were in front of him now, the asshole wouldn’t be saying that. [real funny]

[I think you’d look great in it.] More like look like a fucking idiot. [Hey, I think I earned something from last night. You did leave me hanging.]

It takes a little fumbling, but he opens his door without damaging it. He tosses the box in the direction of the garbage, though it misses and bounces off the wall. There’s another vibration from his phone and he ignores it for now as he pours himself a glass of milk. A clock on the wall reads 12:15. Those five photos are there if he scrolls up.

So what if he knows what he’s doing is stupid. So what if he wants to do it anyway. It’s a little late to be pretending that he doesn’t want to do this when he already knows what he’ll get out of it. Somehow that’s better than the mundane nothing he had before this started.

With a huff, he unbuttons his dress shirt carefully. Shizuo’s going to look like a complete idiot in this, and it takes the rest of the milk carton to get through it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Also any ideas/possible requests you got, I'd love to hear them :)
> 
> I'll probably work on A Cheap Imitation next, been putting that off for too long. Thank you for all the amazing commentary on these chapters, ahh, it inspires me <3 till next time


	8. pull the plug

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just the usual nonsense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, another chapter! I'm just gonna stop saying what I'm working on next, hah, chances are it's wrong.

It may have been pushing it, but if Shizuo in his bartender outfitter wasn't a viable choice, then it was only fair to give him options. Options that would inevitably piss him off, but that was the point. Plus the very thought of Shizuo wearing a dress was worth it enough, even if he’d never wear it.

But now that Shizuo hasn’t texted for the last ten minutes, the humor begins to fade. It would be a shame if Shizuo decided not to contact him again for another nine hours (nine hours and twenty-two minutes to be exact, and yes, Izaya counted), even more so since he’s sitting stiffly on his bed and hasn't moved much or ventured further than his mattress since he fit the smallest butt plug he had up his ass.

This time he had wanted to be prepared. Needless to say, he wasn't going to let Shizuo get the better of him. For later use, he twirls a silicone cock ring around his finger. He is most definitely ready.

Has Shizuo seen the photo he sent five minutes ago of him naked under the summer blanket? Was that not enough?

Izaya waits some more. “Oh, come on, it’s not even that revealing of a uniform. It’s practically boring.” Sighing, Izaya puts down his phone and reaches for the box from under his bed. It’s filled with all the items he’s ordered online. He wonders what more he can use to appease the disgruntled monster.

He’s careful not to move too suddenly since he’s not yet used to the snug and rigid feeling of something resting in his ass.

His phone goes off with a new message before he could find anything. He turns and grabs his phone from where it slid under the covers. He swipes over the message that notifies him that he received a photo attachment. The screen blackens for just a second and the photo is dark.

Izaya sits up without a thought and becomes far too aware of the pressure inside of him and the sudden jolt of pleasure and heat.

What the hell? This is unbelievable. Shizuo is actually wearing the uniform? He takes a deep breath and this is the moment that he’s supposed to let it out deeply in a laugh, but—

Fuck. Shizuo was supposed to look ridiculous. His brain is still processing the image and when the hell did he get so hard? His erection is evident under the thin sheet. Izaya still doesn't get it.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that Shizuo didn't bother with putting it on properly. The front is completely open, one side is coming off his shoulder and the expanse of his lightly muscled torso is visible all the way to the strip of fabric that supposed to be the bottom of the tight skirt and just teases him from seeing anymore.

This is the opposite of what Izaya imagined. The image only serves to heighten Shizuo’s masculinity and fuck is it hot. Izaya wishes it didn't cut off before Shizuo’s face because he really wants to know what expression he’s making.

He pushes against the erection under the blanket. It's difficult thinking any kind of response but somehow he manages. [I guess that means you’re not the shy nurse type.]

[you fucking serious?]

[I think you need to check my vitals. I have a terrible fever.] and he does feel warm.

[good] [I hope you die]

Izaya smirks. He draws the sheet from his legs and he’s completely naked underneath. [You’re not going to treat me? Please check me thoroughly. I may have caught something.]

[no I have no idea what the fuck is wrong with you] [no wait I do] [you have an incurable personality- you're an asshole]

[Wow, you’re good. How did you know there is something wrong with my ass?] [See]

He rolls to his stomach to take an up close photo. He deems it good enough before sending it. Izaya stays on his stomach and bears his weight down against his boner. His phone goes off.

[I guess the problem is you stuck something into your ass]

“Wow, Shizu-chan.” Izaya chuckles, “I should be paying you for this.” [Yeah, so what do I do?]

[you could try taking it out]

[Can’t. Feels good.]

[so what’d you come to me for if you’re not going to listen?]

[I want you to make it better.] Izaya grinds his hips against the bed. He doesn't want it to end as fast as it did yesterday so he slides the cock ring all the way down to the base. When he retrieves his hand, he wipes the tiny bit of precum against the sheets.

[you’ll still need to take it out so I can see what’s the problem]

[Only if you promise to treat me.]

[cant say for sure till you show me]

It had taken what felt like a bit of time to get the butt plug in, but taking it out only felt uncomfortable at the widest part. He was going to take a picture with it, but it looks a little small. Well, it was the smallest in the kit. He switches it for the biggest one he has and applies a generous amount of lube across the silicone surface. “There much better.” Izaya places it at the crease of his ass and the tip grazes his hole. He takes a photo and hesitates because it is rather vulgar. He takes another with the large butt plug that doesn’t completely reveal his asshole and sends that. [Taking it out doesn't make me feel any better.]

[Hmm, then put it back. You’re probably stuck with it for the rest of your life.]

Izaya cracks a grin. [I think if you send me another pic, it’ll help.]

[i already took the damn thing off.]

“Even better.” [Assessing me without your uniform? Why nurse, that’s a violation of protocol.]

[dont call me that] [and you’re naked too]

[Ah, then we’re ready to begin. So what does the prostate exam entail. Can I get the deluxe service?] [Does that include a prostate massage?]

[I think you need the doctor for that, I'm only a fake registered nurse here]

Huh, so maybe he should have gone with the slutty doctor outfit instead. He thinks of something else.

[How about this? Let’s name our dicks. Mine is called “the patient” and yours is “the doctor”. “The patient” requires a visit from “the doctor”]

[so now I’m the nurse and my dick is the doctor? And your dick, the patient, wants a prostate exam? How is that supposed to work]

[Fine, my ass is now called “the patient” and your dick is “the doctor” and the only cure is a good fuck.] [please prescribe]

[all right give me a sec for your prescription]

It’s doubtful that Shizuo understands what he meant. The real miracle is that his boner is still there. Izaya waits the few moments by scrolling up and re-examining the photo he received earlier.

His phone chimes. There’s a new video and it has Izaya curious as he taps it. He sees a piece of paper being held up and covering “the doctor” and Izaya wonders if Shizuo will cum on it. Instead, from illuminated behind the paper, there is the impression that Shizuo is writing something with his dick. In some thin strokes, a bit of what has to be precum trails along the paper. It’s too bad the video isn’t from an aerial view. It’s the last five seconds that things take a turn. There’s a deep ripping sound and a few inches of Shizuo’s dick goes right through the paper. He curses and lifts the penetrated paper and flips it around. Izaya sure as hell can’t read whatever Shizuo’s dick prescribed him. The video goes black.

Izaya blinks a few times. He keeps in mind that metaphors don't work the same way on Shizuo though they do have unexpected results.

[It was a little illegible.]

[yeah, well the doctor’s penmanship isn't so good. It said ‘fuck you’]

[Ah, of course. What a clever doctor you have there.]

[also my dick is no longer the doctor but now whatever was in your ass before]

“Pfff, you’re saying a butt plug is now your dick. Real smooth Shizu-chan.” Izaya shakes his head. [All right. I’ll be taking my deluxe treatment then.]

[and record it]

Izaya then remembers the switch he’d done earlier. He knows Shizuo will notice the size difference if he switches them again. “Ah, shit.” Maybe he shouldn't have asked for the deluxe service. Even some of the vibrators were smaller than that. [Let me then pick something a little more exciting.]

[whatever]

There are some brand new vibrators and dildos that don't have as much girth though they are longer. Again he’s not 100 percent confident that this will go well, but he bought all of this for this reason and it would be silly to end it early while he is still entertained. He picks something that looks more lifelike with a flared head and skin toned. It curves upwards. The material is flexible and lacid warmth in his hand. He applies more lube and then some so that it drips off because shit, this might hurt a little. It is bigger and longer than the butt plug he had in him earlier.

[This time don’t fall asleep.] Izaya texts.

[yeah] [fine]

As to not waste any more lube, he sets his camera on the night stand which he had before. He’s lucky it has a feature that starts recording after three seconds so he has time to get settled on the bed. It makes a noise when it starts recording and Izaya feels the cool lube before he does the blunt end. It doesn't go in easy, it’s a stretch that leaves very little room to move, but the lube makes it possible to guide it in further. He stops halfway, partially hating himself for ever thinking this was a good idea. The curve and the continuous pressure on a certain part of him makes it easier to slide in; its almost good. His other hand is in his mouth and muffles any noise.

When it’s fully seated as far as it can go, Izaya takes a deep breath and stops the recording. He falls back on the pillow, watches most of it, but he doesn’t know if he likes it or not, but there is no way he’s taking it out just to put it back in him. He sends it and hopes Shizuo won't actually fall asleep again.

Last night hadn't been so enjoyable since he was up wondering what the hell happened when Shizuo never responded. He thought maybe Shizuo had hated it and didn't bother with texting because it was so bad. Or worse, he had found out it was him and had broken his phone. An hour was spent listening intently if Shizuo would go out and actively search for him. But when it reached three in the morning, Izaya figured Shizuo had fallen asleep. Still Izaya didn't want a repeat of that.

The message chimes a minute later.

[if it hurts don’t force yourself]

Was there anything in the video that indicated that it hurt? Izaya frowned. Shizuo wasn't that perceptive and he certainly shouldn't give a single fuck. “If you knew it was me you wouldn't be saying that.” [So what, now you think you’re a real doctor or something?]

[I don't need a fucking degree to tell the difference]

[It didn't hurt. I was going slow for effect.]

[yeah, well it would suck if you needed to go to the hospital for real, you wouldn’t be getting any massage that’s for sure]

Oh God, Shinra would certainly get a kick out of it, and going to an actual hospital would be the worst experience he could imagine. [All right, I won't rush. So shall we continue or what?] Damn, he’s never going to get off at this rate, especially with the cockring still on him. Maybe sending pictures and not talking was a better idea.

[yeah] Shizuo texts. [so are you still the patient]

Izaya sighs. This is going to be a long night. [Let’s forget all of that.] [What do you want to do to me right now?]

[pull that fake dick out of you and give you something real]

Now that he’s waited a bit, it no longer feels like something is lodged inside of him. He moves it just a bit, out then in. [Yes, go ahead.] “As long as you don’t kill me afterwards.” He does imagine Shizuo behind him, pushing into him, holding him down. There's a certain thrill and Izaya focuses on that.

[I bet you feel amazing]

Shizuo wouldn't be saying that if he knew. [Go as fast and hard as you want.] Izaya touches his front as well. He pushes the toy further out and he begins to understand the best way for it to press against his prostate. His pleasure grows.

[send another video]

He grips his dick harder for a second before releasing it and writing up a response. [you too] he texts. He doesn’t wait for a reply as he sets up his phone for a video. This time there is no resistance as the toy goes into him smoothly. He makes more room underneath him and lifts up his ass so he can grip himself. It’s different as he passes his fist over the head because he’s never felt so wet there with precum. It makes the skin sound wet as he moves. He uses the corner of his pillow to stop from making too much noise.

He does this for a little longer, but when it starts to become too much, he turns off the recording. He watches some of it, but his own phone says he has a message and he skips to the end and cuts out the last two seconds where he stops and reaches for the phone. Izaya sends it and clicks on the new video.

It’s a short clip, only ten seconds, but it’s the first video he has of Shizuo’s dick and it isn't blurry. It was completely worth all of the effort of the day, and he would pat himself on the back if he weren't currently vigorously masturbating. The clip is set on repeat, so Izaya can watch it for as long as he pleases, which he does.

He especially likes the moment when the clip ends and Shizuo lets go and his erection bobs heavily between his thighs. Also now he knows what hand position he uses, how far up he holds himself, just how much of the head is revealed on the down stroke, the speed he prefers—this is all vital information that Izaya takes in.

He can tell he is close and the cock ring has already prolonged the rising need to let go of everything. He rolls it off and grips himself just as he saw Shizuo did. The fake dick grinds against him just a little harder and Izaya imagines what it would feel like the moment Shizuo tensed up and released inside of him. The cock in front of him bobs just like how he likes it and the next few seconds later he’s pulsing in his hand, but it’s as if it’s coming from deep inside of him.

He stops moving completely and he drops his hand. Everything goes slack and a sense of ease and well being holds him there, even when he’s going cool and the spot under him sticks to him. He decides that next things he needs is a video of Shizuo coming.

There’s a new message that stirs him, and Izaya props his head up so he can read it.

[good night]

Izaya groans in his pillow. “Good night? Can’t you think of something better to say?” There must be a less awkward way to end this, though then again, Shizuo didn't technically have to say goodnight and just leave him hanging like last night. Well, it wasn't like it mattered just so long as he didn't know it was him. [Yeah, night.]

Izaya slowly cleans himself and gets changed. He opens a window for fresh air, and unlike yesterday, the noise of the city doesn’t bother him as sleep takes him heavily and completely. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter is alright, I literally cannot read it over again, hahaha, fuckwhathaveidone (future beta reader?! Anyone? Anyone? Second opinions are my best friend and the more the merrier) Also, if possible, please don't be like previous Shizuo and never respond, otherwise I just assume I did a shit job because sometimes I'm not sure how it is. The struggle is real. Izaya knows.
> 
> Anyway, the ideas you all send are helping so much, thank you! Till next time <3


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